Page 9 of Kilted Hate

Let’s not forget your part in all of this.

Katherine shook her head and ignored her inner chatter. Whatever she had said or done was deserved, and she refused to believe otherwise. Harsh words and a little pain were hardly enough punishment for the man who had made her an orphan.

She sighed again, thinking about her father. He had been a good man, an honest and forthright one. And though emotions were not something that men expressed, he had always made certain that she felt his love for her.

Staring into nothingness, memories of her father seeped into her mind, and for some time, she simply sat there remembering him. She hadn’t done that for quite some time. With the news of her forced marriage, and the fact she was going to have to leave all her companions and what little family she had behind, her mind had been occupied with other things.

The sound of men talking in the corridor pulled her from her memories, and looking through the iron gate that held her prisoner, she watched as two guards brought food and ale to another prisoner across the way. There was some conversationbetween them, and then the men turned towards her. Clearly, she and the other prisoner were the only ones there.

“Stay back from the gate,” the guard who had unlocked her cell earlier called out.

She was nowhere near the gate, and when he unlocked and opened it, she remained where she was, sat on the bed.

“The laird has sent food, ale, and some fresh clothes fer ye,” one of the men said, draping a blanket and clothes at the end of her bed. The other man beside him placed her tray of food and ale on the floor near her feet.

Neither of them said another word, and turning, they exited the cell, where the door was, once again, locked.

She stared at the food and ale feeling slight surprise. She had imagined she would be left down there to rot, especially after she had spat in the laird’s face - that had probably been a step too far, but the rage had taken her over at the time. The last thing she expected was any grace or mercy after the way she had acted.

When she knew the guard was now nowhere near her, Katherine moved across the room and gazed down at the plate. On it sat a chunk of bread, some sort of meat, and a number of vegetables. She was hungry and thirsty, but surely, to eat and drink now would wordlessly tell him that he had won, and that she had come to accept her circumstances.

She certainly had not.

Steeling herself, she turned away from the offerings and moved back to the bed. If he thought he could manipulate and persuade her so easily, the man was a bigger fool than she had assumed. She would starve if she had to, but Katherine refused to be played.

CHAPTER FOUR

“You did what?” Enya cried.

At the dining table, Domhnall’s younger sister, Enya sat beside her twin, Thora. All the siblings were together for supper, and between Magnus and Kai’s explanations, the sisters were now up to speed on what had happened.

While Thora and Enya were identical in almost every way, Enya’s hair was a shade lighter than Thora’s black-as-a-raven locks. Thora’s eyes also appeared more mysterious and intense, which likely had to do with her gift, for all of the siblings possessed a power.

“I willnae be humiliated in front o’ the entire clan, Enya,” Domhnall defended. “Ye’ve yet tae meet her.”

“Aye.” Kai grinned. “She’s nae the meek and quiet English rose Domhnall was expecting, that’s fer sure.”

“That’s nae excuse tae throw her in the dungeon,” Enya argued. “For heaven’s sake, Domhnall, what is wrong with ye? She’s probably terrified, and besides, she’s been travelling fer days. I think I would be a little grumpy if I had been forced from me family home and sent hundreds of miles away tae marry someone I’d never met. A Scot at that.”

Enya was imbued with empathy and always saw the good in everyone. Her petite and delicate build only complimented her serene and nurturing presence, and anyone who met her could not help but feel drawn to her. Her power was one of healing, but she was also the comforter of all those with troubled souls.

Her gift involved taking other’s people’s pain and replacing it with good feelings. Something Domhnall imagined she would try to do the minute she laid her eyes on Lady de Beaumont.

“Ye’re taking her side?” Domhnall blurted as he forked meat onto his plate. “She kicked me…” He did not finish the sentence, but by now, his younger sisters were bound to have heard about it.

“Ye probably deserved it,” Thora joked.

Domhnall scowled at her across the table. “Aye, well, tell me this, sister? How did ye nae see that she was coming?”

Thora shrugged. “Ye ken me gift doesnae work like that. Anyway,” she smirked, “how dae ye ken I didnae?”

“Did ye?” Magnus blurted, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“O’ course, she didnae,” Domhnall said, rolling his eyes. “Ye ken our sister tells me all her visions.”

“Nae all o’ them,” Thora replied, a smile dancing on her lips.

Thora had discovered she had second sight when she had been only six years old. When the visions had happened in her sleep, their parents had thought they were night terrors. But once Thora began falling into trances during the day, screaming out in fear of what she saw, it became quickly apparent that it was far more than a bad dream and she learned how to recognize her visions among real dreams.

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